


Snow in the desert

by Ninjantome



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Bounty Hunters, Cowboys, Desert, KidLaw VS Kilguin Event 2k17, M/M, Outlaws, Sun and Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjantome/pseuds/Ninjantome
Summary: In the middle of the western desert, water sources are precious goods for pioneers cities and cowboys in travel. At one of those strategic points, Penguin is waiting for his companions to come back from their last mission. They won’t be long now. But before they return he comes across an unexpected blonde and very thirsty newcomer…





	Snow in the desert

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers! Here's my small contribution to the first theme of the KidLaw VS Kilguin Event, Sun & Water. What else can I say... I couldn't resist to Western!AU, Kilguin desperately needs more content :)  
> As always I hope you'll enjoy it and if you do don't forget to leave kudos and comments! ^^

Under the porch of the wooden house there was a man sleeping. You could easily say that by the way is body was slouched on the rocking chair he was sitting on. His thin legs were lazily stretched out and his head rested on his chest. The black wide-brimmed hat he wore was completely hiding his face. Despite that however, the hat that was covering his features was also clearly revealing his identity. White embroidery on the front of his cowboy hat was saying to everyone’s eyes “PENGUIN”.

Penguin wasn’t actually sleeping. How could he with that scorching hotness? For hours he remained still in a tired, sleep-depriving state induced by the radiating sun of this afternoon. Even in the shadow of the porch he was feeling the insufferable heat surrounding him. Warming the old worm-eaten planks of the house, burning the dry earth as far as eyes could see, cooking him through his clothes. He hadn’t dared to move yet because any effort would only get him hotter.

He watched as the deadly sunlight progressed ever so slowly in his direction, eating with a nerve gritting slowness the protective shadow. Inch by inch, crawling upon his leather boots then on his riding trousers. He never hated the dark heavy fabric of his outfit more than those past days. No matter how practical they were for riding, they were deadly under that fucking sun.

Penguin closed his heavy-lidded eyes when the sun hit the metal of his spurs and the shiny reflection blinded him. He turned his ankle and played with little spot of light that the metal was reflecting. Then his gaze fall on burnt bushes not far away. He directed the ray of light in its direction and a few seconds later, the twigs started give off smoke.

The hatted man got up when he couldn’t tolerate more direct exposition to the sun. He couldn’t wait for Law and the other men to come back. Next time he’d refuse to stay behind and have their back, especially in the middle of the fucking desert. Still they were counting on him, even if he wasn’t taking part in the main actions. In case anything wrong would happen Penguin had to be there for them. Moreover, in spite of his complains, this place was the best safe-house they’d found so far. Pretty remote, with a lot of escape roads and easy to defend in case of unexpected visitors. But above all it was the location of the only water source for miles around.

Just thinking of water reminded Penguin how dry his mouth was. Nonetheless, he pushed away the thoughts of fresh and wet spring. Instead he leaned against the wooden door frame. Penguin casted a glance at the old structure. It’d been almost two days. The Heart gang should come back soon. Soon they would all leave this hot patch of land and enjoy the stolen money of their successful robbery. By now Law and the others should already have set fire to the bank they were aiming and go out with the gold. Penguin just had to be patient and keep blocking any water supply to reach the city. He didn’t know where Law got this liking at setting things on fire, but for seeing the effectiveness of the method during their past operations Penguin didn’t doubt a single second they would succeed.

Penguin felt sweat running down his back, tingling the hair on his skin under his light white shirt. Again he pulled his hat off with regret to wipe the drops that had formed on his forehead. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, measuring between his fingers the length of his wet bangs that were going down to his chin now. First thing I’d buy will be a haircut.

The pressure of the heat made him feel dizzy. He knew he shouldn’t be complaining though. Inside the fresh shadow of the house Bepo was dying from the hot wind that was sipping through the old wooden walls. To spare the round pale man, he had taken the night shifts and Penguin the day ones.

He heard his friend’s voice in his head pointing out to him, more wisely than anyone would suspect from a man continuously apologizing: _You keep whining yet you’re still here watching for them to return_. Of course he was! Who else would make sure the gang had a safe place to return to? They had to have people to rely on! Besides they couldn’t leave one man behind, it was way too careless and the Heart gang survived his rivals by being smarter.

Burning dust tingled Penguin’s nose. Even though he loved Bepo like family he regretted taking the watch during the day since the first morning. _Sun. Too much sun. Too bright. Too hot_. Oh Lord he missed the north!

Pushing away the painful memories of snow and mountain rivers, the hatted man finally left the porch from where the sunlight was chasing him. He grabbed his shotgun against the railing before the metal heat up under the hot rays and glanced towards the horses’ stable. This was the last shady place where he could watch the surroundings sheltered from the infernal hotness. Penguin braced himself, resetting his beloved hat on his head and stepped into the light.

 

Surprisingly he didn’t melt down when he fully came into the sunlight but he better not dawdle. The horizon was just a vibrating shape at a few feet of distance. The landscape melting under the scorching sun. As fast as his limp body could carry him, Penguin crossed the large distance between the house and the stable. Originally it’d been built away from the house to avoid the noise and the smell of the horses, right now Penguin wanted to murder anyone who had had that idea. The impression of being in a furnace was stronger than ever. Despite Penguin would surely ended roasting in the afterlife, he’d like avoiding tasting it now. Not when the waiting for his friends would end soon. His leather boots were scraping the dry floor, rising up dust on his path that blew in the nonexistent breeze. Penguin had the impression that the distance separating him from the stables was getting longer and longer with each step. He was pretty sure that was what Hell felt like. Lord! Could he stopped being so dramatic… maybe he had a heatstroke already.

After what seemed a long walk through the desert, Penguin finally reached the less hot shadow of the stable. The hatted man entered the wooden building by one of its wide double doors place on each end. He was greeted by the horses’ snorts and a rotten smell mixed with the warm hay’s one. In the first stall, the farthest from the animals, were two corpses lying on the ground, bullet wounds piercing their heads. The bodies had stopped getting the four horses nervous as they’d accustomed to their presence, but the mounts weren’t more at ease.

The hatted man clenched his riffle in his hand imperceptibly. These two men came the day prior to fetch water. Penguin had given them some but they got too curious about the absence of the old man that had occupied the house since decades. They tried to get control of the source… and they failed. Penguin would’ve gladly put them anywhere rather than near the horses but that was the only place where they wouldn’t rot in broad daylight and attract scavengers on miles around.

Appreciating the brief moment of cool air on his damp pale skin, Penguin walked to his horse, next to Bepo’s one. It had raised his head up the moment he approached. The sorrel horse brought his muzzle in Penguin’s stretched out hand. The hatted man murmured affectionate words for his mount and smiled at the sight of his ginger coat. He often joked it was Shachi’s relative when he wanted to annoy his friend. The sorrel nuzzled Penguin’s palm as if he’d read his mind.

“Yeah,” Penguin snorted, “’m missin' him too.”

Disappointed there wasn’t any food in Penguin’s hand. The horse snorted and turned away. There was a soft scratching sound on Penguin’s side. The animals seemed as impatient as he was to get out of here. Penguin turned to pet Bepo’s horse but his hand stopped in midair.

First he didn’t know why his body reacted that way. His gaze was lost on the horsehair of the other mount. Then his brain finally grasped.

The soft scratching. It kept going.

Penguin focused his hearing on that noise only. He didn’t blink nor swallowed once, paying close attention then he began to notice a pattern. Not very regular, but constant… steps were getting closer to the stable. The sudden alert that took over Penguin cleared his mind in the instant. With cautious movements Penguin held his shotgun close and leaned against the door frame on the other side, away from any exterior sight.

He tried to guess more things by ear but it was easy to say he wouldn't get anything more. All he could be certain of was the sound of someone walking in his direction. The orientation of the sun was casting a shadow beyond the door behind which Penguin was hiding. Cursing under his breath, Penguin wondered how he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching the house, its surroundings were flat as calm water. They had eyes on the whole land… Furthermore the closest ranch wasn’t in that direction at all and even though it’d take three hours of ride from here– _wait… ride…_ The house was in the middle of nowhere and reaching with a horse was already a though journey but what Penguin was hearing at the moment were footsteps. He listened carefully but he didn’t hear any stomping from horseshoes or the huff of an animal.

It meant the intruder was… on foot?! That was definitely too weird for Penguin’s stressed mind. _How the hell could someone ever come here on foot? Did they come here to steal a horse? Makes sense. But how did they even make it under that sun?_ Penguin shook his head slightly to chase a fly off his face. Questions were irrelevant at the moment. Now only mattered how many time was left before the intruder enters the stable and meets Penguin’s gun barrel. He was determined not to let anyone get in his way right before the gang was about to come back. _Come on, just a few steps more…_

The sound was getting more erratic as if the intruder had momentarily forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. Even though, Penguin didn’t dare get out of his hideout now. He wouldn’t waste the advantage of the surprise effect. Nevertheless Penguin’s heart was fluttering, beating harshly against his ribs as if he was running under the pressure.

A loud bang echoed in front of the door, making Penguin startled. It sounded as if someone had hit a metallic panel. When Penguin frowned, searching what could have caused such an unexpected noise, a splash interrupted his train of thoughts.

The drinking trough! Penguin had forgotten about the large metal basin they used when the animals were outside. Then the hatted man recalled he’d filled it for the two previous visitors. Penguin also remembered its exact location, a few feet from the double door, close enough to be covered by the shadow of wooden stable.

The newcomer seemed to spread water everywhere by the sound of it. Well, they wouldn’t have time to clench their thirst.

Faster than eyes could see, Penguin loomed up from his hideout and aimed his shotgun at his unexpected visitor. Unflinching, he made two determined steps towards the man bent over the trough with head plunged in the remaining water, the spurs of his boots jingling on his way.

“Hands up your head feller or there won't be enough left of you to snore!”

His threat revealed being not very effective. The dark silhouette of the man against the blinding white light of the landscape kept drenching himself with the trough’s content. He was drinking eagerly like his life depended on it. With the trembling desperate gestures of someone that might seen what was the most precious to him suddenly taken away if he wasn’t taking it first. If he actually crossed the desert on foot it might well be the case. But Penguin couldn’t care less.

He cocked the hammer of his shotgun backwards and the clicking sound seemed to stop time.

Everything was still, even the burning wind and the dust. The man instantly halted his movement. His scraped left hand gripped the edge of the trough. A dirty cowboy hat clenched in his fingers. His right hand bathed in the water. His long dirty blonde hair was hanging over his face…

At this very moment the silence, as tensed as the gun’s firing spring, settled. Only the drops of water pierced the thick air.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Penguin growled although his voice echoed loudly in the tensed atmosphere.

Everything seemed happening in slow motion, as if time was slowly starting again… A heavy breathe out stretched over the silence. The exhale of a man still dying of thirst. The intruder, hardly supporting himself, took a firm hold on his long limbs and began pulling his right hand out of the water with extreme precaution. Like he’d just been caught in a predator’s field of vision.

 

The first thing Penguin saw when the blonde raised his head up were his wet crackled lips. Water flowed out of his open mouth from the pale corners to his hanging bottom lip. The liquid ran down on the sharp line of his jaw getting caught in the hair of his chin. His tongue got out of his mouth and languidly licked his lips as if he was craving not to let his mouth dry out. Captivated, Penguin fought the urge to do the same…to follow the very slow motion of the stark pink tongue.

As the blonde straightened his back, the water he’d splashed on himself dripped down the tense muscles of his throat. Naked and submissively offered at the aim of the gun barrel. The streams of water caught in his clavicles and ran to his sternum slower and slower between his pectorals… He wore a faded shirt and a short leather vest fully opened on his chest. The light fabric of his shirt had darkened under the water and was sticking on his sun-kissed skin… Nothing from his broad torso to his defined abs, nothing was left to imagination.

The shadow of the stable only faded the bright radiance the sun was casting on the whole desert. Sunlight and soft shadows were fighting all over the blonde’s skin. Shining brightly where the water drops were catching the light, sharpening the clear-cut shapes of the man’s muscles.

While it was impossible, it was suddenly so hot it seemed everything was melting… from the intruder’s dripping wet clothes to Penguin’s brain. He felt like the stranger’s body had suddenly wrapped around him, ensnaring him in a heated embrace whose he couldn’t escape like the desert’s hotness. The blonde’s right hand kept rising up, dripping more water on his muscled forearm and drenching his already wet rolled up sleeve. With a terribly slow gesture, his long fingers went for the dark wet bangs going down on his face. Cautiously he brushed the blonde hair off and pulled them backwards. The blonde threw his head back accompanying his gesture and exposing more of the tanned humid skin of his throat. It felt like a lifetime for the man’s head to come down and his eyelids to finally open.

His icy blue eyes froze Penguin where he stood. They were a stark contrast to the man’s sun-kissed and dirty skin. Penguin couldn’t do anything but hold the man's piercing gaze. It sent shivers down the outlaw’s spine like the first chills of winter. There was an eternity trapped in those eyes, the same as the everlasting snow of the far North. Intense cold crept into Penguin’s very soul, freezing the hatted man from his booted feet to his finger placed on the trigger and melting his insides. Penguin was worse than disarmed under that gaze. He had the impression the man had shot him dead by solely looking upon him.

Conflicting sensations had taken over Penguin’s being. He was burning yet shivering cold. Frozen solid on the trigger when sweat was running down his temples. Melting and freezing.

He wasn’t able to set with precision the moment he had lost himself in the stranger’s eyes but he distinctly knew when he snapped out of his trance. Without Penguin noticing it, the man’s left hand, concealed by his hat, had moved towards his hips. The hatted man got scared by his own stupidity and how easily he’d been distracted. Adrenaline rushed through Penguin’s system, reawakening is paralyzed body. Hips meant gun. He didn’t think twice.

Penguin fired… and the blonde fell down.

 

Bringing down his steaming shotgun, Penguin jumped over the drinking trough that was separating him from the man in no time. The hatted man’s body felt stiff after remaining tensed for what appeared an eternity to stare at the stranger’s clear blue eyes. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Quickly he kneeled down beside the man, inspecting his body. Except for sunburns and scratches he was as fine as someone that just fainted from heatstroke. Penguin’s hand tightened on his weapon and he sighed. He knew he hadn’t shoot the guy down, but the result of his warning shot had gone beyond his hopes.

After he checked for his vitals and made sure they were okay, Penguin quickly rummaged through his clothes. He tried to be quick but he couldn’t take this dripping wet chest out of his field of vision. Penguin took the two revolvers hanging at his hips and bit his lip when passed his hands in the blonde’s vest.

He held out a bunch of soaked folded papers and focused on the document while his mind was processing what he was actually holding. He knew that type of paper… Yet he unfolded the papers knowing in advance what he’d find printed on them.

Penguin put aside the first ones but the faces on the documents seemed laughing at his own. Then he saw Law’s poster, his high bounty unmistakable under his name written in bold letters. Penguin gritted his teeth and cursed. His grip tightened on the documents. He cursed louder. But he resisted the furious desire to tear up the posters. Instead he continued his inspection. Shachi, Uni, Bepo, Ikkaku, Bart… They were all here. At last he stumbled upon his own picture throwing him back how screwed up he was now.

Penguin’s eyes came back to the unconscious bounty hunter… Before he heard a stampede from a distance. Horses were approaching rising up clouds of dust on their path. Numerous horses in a hurry.

The Heart gang had returned.


End file.
